The Knight Read online

  She saw her uncle first, with some of his men, and realized that a handful of her father’s nearby retainers were here as well.

  “Bring the wine and ale,” her father called out. “This is cause for celebration.” Catching sight of her as she wound her way toward him, he beamed and opened his arms wide. “There you are, daughter! Come and hear the news.”

  Seeing his happiness, Jo couldn’t help but return his smile. Thomas Dicson of Hazelside’s good-natured disposition was reflected in his appearance. Possessing the same fair coloring of Jo and her sisters, the years had grayed his hair and put a ruddy, weather-beaten stamp on his fair face, but he was still a handsome man. A thick barrel chest, sturdy build, and boisterous, larger-than-life personality made him seem taller than his handful of inches over five feet. When he enfolded her in his arms, Joanna’s head nearly aligned with his.

  “What is it, Father? We heard the cheers upstairs.”

  “Woke you, did we?” He smiled, tweaking her nose. “What a bunch of lazy lasses I have. How am I going to find husbands for all of you? Half the morning is gone already.”

  Joanna felt a stab at the mention of the word husband, but seeing the familiar teasing glint in his eye, she managed to hide it behind a smile. “You will have to get up earlier to work harder to give us all rich tochers to have someone take us off your hands.”

  He gave a sharp guffaw and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her. “They should pay me for such treasures. I already have half the men in the village vying for my eldest daughter; when Eleanor is of age, I will probably have all of them.”

  Her mother stood beside her father, shaking her head as she listened to their teasing. “Are you going to tell her, Thomas, or should I?”

  Joanna turned to her father expectantly, though she could already guess what he was going to say.

  “Ah, lass, it’s the very best of news. Your uncle arrived this morning to tell us that our rightful lord has taken the castle and rid us of the English pigs forever.”

  Joanna stilled, the air sucked from her lungs. He’d promised! “Forever?” she breathed. “What do you mean forever?”

  “Young Douglas intends to raze the castle to the ground. There will be nothing left for the English to garrison. Nor do I imagine there will be English soldiers eager to defend Castle Dangerous.” He grinned. “Our young lord is making a name for himself.”

  Dread washed over her. It was how he was making his name that worried her. “And Sir John?” she asked, unable to keep the worry from her voice. The English commander had always been kind to her. She knew they were the enemy, and she should hate them as James and her father did, but living with them day-to-day it was hard not to make some friends.

  Her father frowned. Like James, he didn’t approve of her friendliness with their “occupiers.” He might be forced to interact with them, but she was not. “Killed, from what your uncle said. Along with most of his men.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, thinking of the handsome commander eager to return to his sweetheart in England.

  “This time there will be nothing left,” her father added. “Not one bloody Englishman left in Douglas.”

  Joanna’s eyes shot to his in horror. The “Douglas Larder” may have happened almost three years ago, but it was still fresh in her mind. He would do it again. James had sworn he would show them mercy. He’d promised her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  James stood outside the gate of the Douglas stronghold. His stronghold. The castle where he’d been born that had been built by his grandfather in the days of King Alexander III. He would rebuild, he swore, and make it even better than before. But emotion burned in his chest and throat.

  The day had dawned gray and cold—fitting, he supposed, for the distasteful but necessary deed being done here today. Like William Wallace before him, Robert the Bruce had adopted the battle strategy of leaving nothing behind for the English but scorched earth, giving them nothing to eat and nowhere to hide, even if it meant destroying their own homes. The king’s castles had not escaped the swathe of destruction: Lochmaben and Turnberry Castles had both been taken and slighted.

  Now it was James’s turn to watch his castle destroyed.

  The long night of feasting was no longer evident in the sober faces of the men who were gathered behind him, watching the men prepare the fires. Truth be told, after what happened with De Wilton, James hadn’t felt much like celebrating last night, but he went through the motions for his men—and for his castle. It deserved a fitting send-off.

  It was just timber and stone, he told himself. The memories could not be destroyed.

  Boyd, who’d been looking at him all night as if he’d suddenly grown two heads, must have read something in his face. “You don’t have to do this.”

  James tightened his jaw. “Aye, I do.” It was his command, his order that would see it done. The least he could do was stand witness. “Has Seton finished with the prisoners yet?”

  Boyd’s mouth fell in a flat line. “He’s readying them now.” He gave him a hard stare. “Silver and a safe escort to the border? This isn’t like you.”

  James shrugged. It wasn’t. He didn’t know how to explain it other than something had struck a chord in him when he’d read that letter. The thing that De Wilton had been reaching for—the thing that had cost him his life—had been a letter from a woman in England. The lady he’d hoped to marry.

  Joanna had tried to tell him that De Wilton had a sweetheart back home, but James had been too jealous to believe her.

  The lady had written that she would agree to marry the English commander if he could hold “Castle Dangerous” for a year. It was the kind of test the troubadours had sung about, harkening to the great age of chivalry when knights had proved their worthiness on the lists and undertaken other challenges and feats of bravery in the name of love.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Boyd said. “He moved and you acted on instinct. He had no right to ask for mercy in the first place. Were the roles reversed he would have struck you down without hesitation—and become a rich man in the process.”

  They all had high prices on their heads, but the Black Douglas’s was higher than most.

  “I know.” But James couldn’t deny the guilt he’d experienced on reading the note. So instead of taking the castle by force, he’d offered the English soldiers holed up in the keep terms for surrender. Terms that had included a safe escort and enough money to see them home in exchange for the solemn vow that they would never step on Scottish ground again.

  Boyd shook his head and gave him a long stare. “You and Seton with your damned chivalry. Pretty soon you’ll be spouting off knightly codes like Randolph.”

  James gave a real shudder. Though the king’s nephew had come around to “fighting like a brigand” as he’d once accused Bruce, Randolph still had his moments of knightly superiority. But James couldn’t wait for him to hear about this latest victory—let him try to top this. “Bite your damned tongue.”

  “Does this have something to do with the lass you went to see yesterday?”

  “No,” James said flatly, turning sharply away.

  But did it? Perhaps a little. He shouldn’t have made a promise to Joanna, but he had, and he would do his best to honor it. She would be distressed by De Wilton’s death, but perhaps this show of mercy would help atone for his mistake.

  A moment later, Seton led the prisoners out and James gave the order to light the fires.

  As they were without siegecraft weaponry like trebuchets or siege engines, they would burn everything first and assault the weakened walls later with great timber logs, iron bars, picks, and whatever else they could find.

  Jaw locked, James watched as the fires scattered around the castle sparked, crackled, and roared to life, building and building with intensity. Smoke filled his lungs and burned his eyes, but still he refused to turn away. He stood and watched as his home went up in flames. As the place that he’d loved more than anywhere else w